XBook 7: Palaver: Weapon X
by Leen713
Summary: Three tales tied into one campfire conversation between survivors of the Weapon X experiments. Some crossovers. May need to read the first books to understand this one. R&R!
1. Prologue

Author's note: On to book 7. This story takes place at the same time as books 5 and 6. It will center around Wolverine, Deathstrike, Sabertooth and what they've been up to while the gassy demons and disco trolls were running around back in New York. I expect this tale to be a lot darker than the previous two. It will tie into the continuing story lines and crossovers in the other books, but first... let's get to know our ferial friends a little better...

**Book 7 - Palaver - Weapon X**

Prologue

Let's palaver, you and I. We're long over due for a chat, don't you think?

I know our past meetings haven't been... stellar. But I'm hoping we've come to a point in all this where we can sit and talk without automatically leaping for each other's throats. Why don't you have a seat?

Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. You just look so surprised. I know... I know. Considering...everything else... I think it's fair to say that our meeting is a little weird, but since we're here, we might as well take advantage... and get a few nagging questions off our chests.

It's nice here. I can understand why she likes it so much. The quiet... the solitude... I don't even mind the cold. But then I never have. Such a place doesn't seem possible...with Alkalai Lake only a few hundred miles east from where we're sitting.

I know what you've been looking for. I can already report, that you won't find it in the bunker just beyond those trees. There's nothing left. The entire compound has been burned out. Not too long ago either. She said... she said she didn't do it. But I'm not so sure.

Never mind... let's not talk about that now. For now, let's talk about us.

How much do you remember? I mean, from before. Before Stryker. I try but... there's nothing left in my head before these claws. Just a nightmare filled with the doctors and the water and the metal. God, I see it almost every time I close my eyes.

It must be the same for you. Isn't that really why you're here? You want to know about your past. Who you were before Stryker. Whatever mission you're on right now, you still somehow wound up here.

Why don't we start with that then?

Let's talk about the assignments we're on for our new bosses. And why wandering around the Canadian wilderness was more important right now than anything Xavier or Magneto asked us to do...

You can go first if you want.

I'm not saying that as some ploy to get information out of you or anything. I really don't give a crap what your boss has you doing. I started this palaver... I'm just trying to be a good host. Then again, if you think this is all bull shit, you can get up and walk away now...

She'll probably be down in a bit to check on us. Just to make sure we didn't kill each other. If she hears us talking, she might not come the whole way to the fire. She seems to like the snow better anyway...

Okay, I know that look, so stop glaring at me. I said I'd shut up, so I'm shutting up. I'll get my turn when you're done.

Gives me time to smoke anyway. I don't know about you, Lady, but reminiscing just makes me _crave_ a good cigar...


	2. Chpt 1: Yuriko's Assignment

Chapter One:

_New York City__... One week earlier..._

"I'm sorry for the wait, Miss Kyoto," the thin, bow-tied man stammered, "You've caught us on one of our busy days I'm afraid..."

The man tapped a stack of papers against his blotter, scowling irritably at the unruly condition of the file. The plaque on his deck announced his hollowed position as _Head of RECORDS_ in obnoxious gold letters. The bustling lines in the main lobby were muted behind his office door and, by the faint scent of perspiration on his brow, it was obvious that the glorified librarian did not work well under pressure.

"Our day to day traffic is quite unpredictable," the man continued apologetically, "Some days we're sitting here twiddling our thumbs and on others it seems as if everyone in the city needs a new copy of their birth certificate. I dread what my workload will be like when the Registration Act is passed..."

The woman he was addressing smiled with exaggerated sympathy at the man's plight. If all of humanity was suddenly told they had only moments to live, she was certain that the 'Head of RECORDS' would spend the remainder of his time on Earth making certain his files were in perfect order for the apocalypse.

"Now... Miss Kyoto..." he addressed her again by the alias she had invented for this occasion, "You say you are looking for records about... your sister?"

'Miss Kyoto', known to most federal agencies as Lady Yuriko Oyama, nodded once. The motion was delicate and deceptively sweet.

"Yes," she replied somberly, "It's been nearly twenty years since I've seen her. We were only children when we were separated. Our family settled in this city when our parents first brought us to America, so I'm hoping there is some record of what happened to her after her adoption..."

The Head of Records eyed her with practiced suspicion and sighed heavily.

"Well, unfortunately, most adoption records are still legally sealed from the public," he said pompously, "Many families who adopt would prefer to decide for themselves whether or not to reveal a child's true origin to him or her... rather than having some distant relative suddenly appear on their doorstep..."

"I understand," Yuriko replied, ignoring the man's attitude for the moment, "However, my sister would be a grown woman by now, and she was old enough at the time of adoption to remember her family. I'm sure she would have no objections to you sharing what information you have with me."

The Head of Records rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then shook his head.

"I would like to help you, Miss Kyoto," he said, "Surely, I would but I'm afraid it's simply unethical for me to..."

Yuriko reached her hand over the desk and grabbedthe man's wrist firmly. The Head of Records let out an audible gasp at the quick motion. He tried to pull away but the strange woman's fingers were impossibly strong.

"Please," Yuriko said calmly, "I believe an exception would not be a problem in my case. I would hate it if I were forced to go through... other channels... to get the information that I need..."

She gave the man's arm one final squeeze before pulling her hand back to her lap. She lowered her face slightly with mock humility and apology. The man rubbed his wrist uncomfortably and stared at 'Miss Kyoto' with undisguised anxiety. He assumed her 'other channels'was areference to her lawyers.

"I'm sorry..." Yuriko said, glancing up at him again, "I don't mean to be so forward. It just... It's been so many years... And I've been searching for so long..."

The man continued to shift nervously in his seat until Yuriko was able to force tears into her eyes. Her soft, graceful motions returned as she blotted her cheeks gently with a tissue. The Head of Records slowly began to relax as 'Miss Kyoto' became more distraught.

"I..." the man squeaked, coughing once to clear this throat before continuing, "I... I understand. We've been faced with situations such as your before, believe me. And I would hate to see this issue be thrown into the judicial system. I despise courtrooms... and lawyers..."

Yuriko's eyes brightened as the looked at the man, "Then... will you be able to help me?"

The Head of Records sighed again, and flexed the hand she had grasped a moment before. He decided he liked 'Miss Kyoto's' demure side much more than her touchy-feely one, and he began to nod.

"I think... we can work something out..." the man agreed quickly, turning toward his computer, "Um... what did you say your sister's name was again?"

"Maximoff," Yuriko said, "Wanda Maximoff."

The Head of Records glanced at her with renewed suspicion. He reflexively wanted to question the obvious difference in the nationality ofthe last names. 'Miss Kyoto' was of Oriental descent; Maximoff was Eastern European in origin. He hesitated until Yuriko nodded understandingly.

"We are half-sisters," she lied smoothly, "Same mother... different fathers. You can understand how difficult it was for our mother. Such a scandal, driven from her homeland and then the cancer took her so quickly..."

New tears touched her face. Her performance would have fooled any polygraph test, and the gaunt Head of Records was buying every word.

"Of course," he replied awkwardly, "Why don't we just see what we can find..."

* * *

Yuriko Oyama stepped out onto the busy Manhattan sidewalk and put a pair of dark glasses over her face. She marched down the block, a thick file under one arm, until she found an available taxi. 

The paperwork would never be missed. Even by the gilded Head of RECORDS would forget about it in time. It was just one file among the hundreds he organized every week. The entire process had been easier than she had expected. The man did not even question her when she requested the file for Pietro Maximoff as well. Magneto had given her all the information she had needed about his children to make her tale utterly convincing.

Yuriko opened the door of the yellow cab and asked the driver to take her to the airport as she settled into her seat. The driver acknowledged and pulled out into the mid-day traffic.

Without taking the dark glasses from her eyes, Yuriko opened the folder and began to inscribe the information to memory. This was only the beginning of the trail, but she knew Magneto also planned to have Toad and Mystique do some reconnaissance as well.

Yuriko wondered why Magneto was hesitant to tell two of his most loyal followers about his desire to find his children. She did not linger on the question, however. She was too engrossed in the mission itself to concern herself with Magneto's motivations. He had saved her from death at Alkalai Lake and she had no doubts about his convictions.

After leafing through the pages for a few minutes, Yuriko paused on one document of interest. It was a certificate of transfer from a local school district. The paper was yellowing with age, and the blocked type had obviously been printed from an old word processor. It listed both Wanda and Pietro Maximoff as students in the New York suburbs, but their destinations had been quite different.

Pietro, it said, had been transitioned to a private academy located outside of the country. Wanda, however, had been moved to California, specifically to a treatment facility for disturbed adolescents. Yuriko noted the date of transfer had been just over twenty years earlier.

Their father, Mr. Erik M. Lensherr, had signed each document.

She closed the file on her lap and tapped it against her knees to straighten the papers in amused imitation of the Head of RECORDS. She would have the entire flight west to study the documents with more detail and decide what action to take once she arrived in California.

* * *

Author's note: Thanks, DemonRogue for the review. Sorry if the prologue was weird... I wanted to do a little first person POV and that's what happened... it'll make sense by the end... I hope... lol 

This fic takes place at the same time as book 6. Toad accompanied Mystique to NYC to check on Pyro b/c the Lady was off doing something else... this is what she was doing :-) Logan was MIA in book 5, so this will also be about what he was doing during that time too. I'm hoping this will all come together eventually. I repeat... **_hope. _**Feel free to critic... or critique... or whatever... peace.


	3. Chpt 2: Flying toward LA

Chapter Two:

A commercial aircraft heading west toward Los Angeles shimmied slightly as it passed through a pocket of unstable air. The disturbance was minute. The experienced flight staff hardly took any notice. The stewards attended to their passengers normally and reassured any anxious travelers of the plane's safety. After a few minutes, the pilot's voice spoke over the cabin intercom system, calmly delivering information about the turbulence, and then offering travelers a distraction by pointing out several landmarks below that would be of scenic interest.

Yuriko watched with vague amusement as the worried commuters began to relax in their seats.

It was interesting that people were so quick to trust the pilot, who was locked apart from them, rather than the live and present flight attendants, who had probably clocked the same number of hours over their career but, unfortunately, did not share the same esteem as the "Captain." Perhaps it was whole disembodied nature of the intercom that gave the passengers confidence, as if the voice of a deity was calling down on them and promising a safe path to their destination.

Yuriko sighed heavily and made a polite flagging motion to a passing stewardess.

"Ma'am?" the enduringly courteous woman asked as she reached Yuriko's seat.

"How long until we land?" the Lady asked.

"We're expected to arrive in about one hour," the stewardess said, and then added, "Weather permitting, of course."

Yuriko gave the woman a sympathetic smile, "I won't hold you to the exact minute."

"I appreciate that," the stewardess said with a sarcastic grin, "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, thank you," Yuriko replied. The woman nodded and moved on.

Once Yuriko was sure she was no longer subject to anyone's attention, she opened up one of the files on her tray table and began to read. She was nearly finished with the papers she had retrieved at the New York records office and additional information she retrieved from a safety deposit box Magneto had opened decades earlier to keep certain personal papers secure.

Most of the information was straightforward, nothing out of the ordinary. There had not been a single mention of the word 'mutant' in any of the documents, giving testament to how novel the term had been in society only two decades before.

For a moment, Yuriko tried to imagine what the world would be like without the term 'mutant.' What if scientists had never discovered the genetic abnormality present in the mutant population? What if there was no word to define those with supernatural gifts? How would society deal with those they deemed too different?

Yuriko was not sure she wanted the answer to her last musing. She had the feeling without scientific classification many mutants would be faced with pleasantries such as burning at the stake or the 'if you don't sink, you're a witch' test.

As she reached the end of the file, Yuriko pieced together the history of Magneto's children in her mind. Erik Lensherr had moved to America with his family approximately twenty-five years earlier, around the same time Xavier founded his school for the gifted. His children had immediately begun attending a prestigious private school in New York City. All seemed well for a few semesters until the first reports of Wanda's disruptions in the classroom began to appear. Yuriko scrutinized the academic documents curiously.

One of the earliest read, "Despite her excelling academic skill, Miss (Wanda) Maximoff's behavior continues to have a detrimental effect on her ranking. Over the past semester, her professors have filed frequent disciplinary notes about her unruly behavior and overall attitude toward authority figures..."

Another read, "Miss (Wanda) Maximoff reported to the disciplinary office today after she reportedly instigated a rather large fight in the dining hall. One of the large tables had to be removed as it had been cracked in half (table was one of the old oak luncheon counters, direct cause of damage is unknown...)

One of the final notes read, "In one of the most troubling instances to date, Miss (Wanda) Maximoff was responsible for the destruction of school property, including desks, windows and one wall mounted slate blackboard. Her direct culpability could not be confirmed, however, as both the teacher and other students in the room could not explain exactly how the damage was caused. (Miss Maximoff was apparently seated at the time of the incident and displayed no direct physical aggression toward any of the damaged objects)"

Another shutter of turbulence rolled over the plane. Yuriko held the files and papers in place with one hand and glanced at her watch. She was surprised to see that nearly forty-five minutes had passed since her conversation with the flight attendant.

She packed away the documents into her traveling briefcase and stowed it beneath her chair. She stood and moved gracefully down the aisle toward the restrooms. Most of the passengers were still dozing, waiting for the soft chime meaning safety belts were to be worn and tray tables to be placed in their full, upright positions.

As the Lady passed her eyes over the cabin, she met the gaze of a little boy, no more than five, sitting quietly next to his sleeping parent. One of his small hands was wound around his father's fingers, and the other was holding a thumb securely in his mouth. The boy's eyes were wide, dark and completely alert to the activity (or lack there of) around him. He did not seem the least bit put off by the occasional shutters of turbulence. He had not reason to be. His world was secure, so long as he had a grasp on his parent.

Yuriko suddenly paused in stride as an eerie sense of deja vu suddenly washed over her.

_Why's the plane shaking, Papa? Are we going to crash?_

_No, we're just bothering the clouds and they're grumbling about it._

The Lady pushed on toward the center of the plane and opened the door of an unoccupied stall. She glanced back once and realized the little boy had turned around in his chair and was still watching her with strangely rapt interest.

_Clouds don't grumble, Papa._

_Of course, they do. Wouldn't you grumble if someone decided to go flying around in your belly?_

Yuriko wavered unsteadily on her feet for a moment, then took a step forward into the restroom and closed the door. She leaned against one plastic wall and put her hands to her face. What the hell was happening to her? Another wave of nauseous familiarity hit Yuriko with unexpected intensity and she sat down on the closed lid of the toilet.

_How high will we be flying, Papa?_

Yuriko lifted her head and stared forward into the adjacent mirror. Her face turned white as she realized what was happening. She was remembering. Some memory from her childhood was finally forcing its way through the years of reprogramming she suffered during her time with Stryker.

Since Magneto had helped her escape from Alkalai Lake, the Lady Deathstrike had never been able to recall anything from her life before the Weapon X program. She knew from Stryker's records that she had only been with him for a little over five years. It was as if the crazed Colonel had taken an eraser to her mind and wiped out any remaining evidence of who Yuriko Oyama had been prior to her indoctrination into his experiment.

_Not too high,_ a ghostly voice echoed in her mind, _The clouds are nice to visit, but we don't want to get stuck in them..._

Even without her supernatural senses, Yuriko would have been able to hear her heart beating at that moment. The sense of nausea was passing, however, the psychological impact of these sudden memories would take a while longer to sort out.

Yuriko took a long breath and closed her eyes. The plane, the turbulence, the small child sitting next to his father... the safe and calm serenity she saw in his eyes... the lack of fear...

She remembered a plane, a very big plane, bigger than the one in which she was now flying west. She remembered how big everything had seemed, including the two large bodyguards who had accompanied them from Japan.

_My father_, Yuriko thought bitterly, _I hope you can hear me from hell, Stryker. You lose. You failed. I remember my father..._

Time seemed to take hiatus as she struggled to draw more memories from her abused mind. When a flight attendant knocked on the door, Yuriko automatically jumped into a defensive position.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am," a woman's voice called, "But the captain has just made the announcement for all passengers to take their seats."

"Thank you," Yuriko said with deceptive calm, "I'll just be a minute."

The flight attendant, apparently satisfied with the response, walked away from the door. Yuriko's body relaxed and she stood normally again. She flexed her hands and glanced down at the ten silver blades sticking out from the tips of her fingers. The brief euphoria stirred by her memories began to cool.

"Too strong," Yuriko whispered, not so much to herself as to her dead tormentor, "Maybe lose was too strong a word, you bastard."

There was a soft metallic click as the adamantium claws slid back into her hands.

"Let's call it a draw."


	4. Chpt 3: Wanda's Treatment

Author's note:

In case anyone didn't notice, I've upped the rating on this fic. Turns out, the Weapon X crew and certain other characters have these intense past storylines that I don't want to shy away from. Plus one of them swears a lot (I'm looking at you, Mr. Logan) and all are going to be dealing with some heavy stuff as the fic goes on. Nothing overly bloody or graphic (cause writing graphic stuff gives me the jibblies... jibbly jibblies...no, really I just don't do it), I just thought it was fair to warn.

No dancing Trolls in this one, folks. But _heavy, heavy_ laying of the plot... Time to dig in and get into the heads of these characters... Let me know what you think...

* * *

Chapter Three: 

_Linnea __Psychiatric Hospital... __Just outside of __Los Angeles_

"Dr. Zarin..." a woman called to her guest as she walked toward the lobby.

Yuriko turned with appropriate recognition at the professional alias she had invented earlier in the week. She sported a briefcase with the initials 'HVZ' embossed on the cover and the laminated guest pass on her lapel also said 'Dr. Zarin.'

The woman who greeted Yuriko was dressed in a stereotypical doctor's coat worn over a simple blue blouse and black suit trousers. Her shoes must have had soft soles because they did not click against the linoleum floor of the main hall. The woman paused by the front security station and waited for the harsh buzz, which signaled that the main entrance from the lobby had been unlocked.

Yuriko smiled graciously as the woman joined her on the other side of the glass and then shook her hand in greeting. The doctor's security nametag read 'Dr. M. Hageman, M.D., Psy. D., Linnea Psychiatric Hospital, Level A Clearance'.

"Dr. Zarin," the woman repeated, sounding breathless as she ran a hand over her own mousy hair, "I'm so glad to finally meet you. I was more than a little surprised to hear about your interest in our program. It's been so difficult for us to find supportive links in the psychiatric community... and by that, of course, I mean monetary supporters..."

Yuriko nodded, offering false sympathies to her willing host. The Lady knew exactly why this hospital had problems finding financial backers. But she would let Dr. Hageman speak of it in her own time. If Yuriko was going to get the information she needed, she would have to maintain her new alias, the curious scholar.

"Well," Yuriko replied, "Then I hope my own research will bring new light to your work. Believe it or not, I haven't heard only bad things about your programs..."

Dr. Hageman smirked and then nodded wearily.

"I'm going to have to go with the 'or not' for now," she replied to her guest, "But you're not here to discuss our fiscal issues. Why don't we start with a tour of the facilities? I'd love to know more about your study..."

Yuriko followed the doctor through the main doors and into the hospital. The front guards hardly spared them a glance as they passed. Yuriko could see several rows of monitors set up along the far wall broadcasting feed from dozens of security cameras positioned around the building. Most displayed hallways, common rooms, cafeterias, and any other place that the patients tended to start brawls.

After years of being involved in security at a secret military base, Yuriko resisted the urge to leap over the counter and give the guards a verbal drilling that would most likely lead to their need for new under shorts.

No wonder Magneto's daughter had escaped from this place so easily.

"Does the Linnea group only specialize in adolescents?" Yuriko asked, as if she were addressing a professor.

"Oh, no, no," Dr. Hageman insisted fretfully, "Not at all. We have multiple wings dealing with all age ranges and a wide variety of psychological disorders. Though, as you know, our population is exclusively female..."

Yuriko nodded. This was something she had known before leaving the east coast. The documents she had retrieved for Magneto identified the hospital where Wanda Maximoff had been transferred to upon her expulsion from school. The authorization forms had been signed by Eric Lensherr himself.

"We have our outpatient services here on the ground floor," Dr. Hageman continued, "The eating disorders clinic is on the second as well as the depression and suicide prevention center. Of course, most of those treatments are paid for by private insurance, so they don't suffer the same financial problems as my department..."

Yuriko did not miss the sudden bitter tone in the doctor's words, but there was a strange sense of injustice in the last statement that caught her by surprise.

"I understand," Yuriko said quietly, "I suppose cases like Wanda Maximoff have not helped you in that area..."

Dr. Hageman turned toward Yuriko as they reached the elevator. The exhaustion in the doctor's eyes seemed to exaggerate her age. This again surprised Yuriko, who waited patiently to hear the other woman's reaction to her blunt statement.

"Yes," the doctor replied slowly, "But I wouldn't trade my work with her for any amount of money..."

Her words weighed heavily in the air for a moment, then the elevator chimed and the doors opened. The doctor entered first and waved for her guest to follow.

"I'm sorry if I offended you just then," Yuriko finally said once the lift was heading upward, "I hope you don't think..."

Dr. Hageman waved her hand again, this time in a dismissive motion. Yuriko fell silent.

"No, no, no" the doctor said with an honest grin, "No offense. If I thought you meant to, I would have ushered you immediately back to the lobby. We've had our share of 'offenders' over the past decade or so. One intern started referring to my unit as the 'freak show' on her first tour. No, no, what you said is absolutely true..."

The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened again, letting the two riders out onto the fifth floor. Yuriko continued to follow Dr. Hageman toward her department, listening with honest interest as she spoke.

"We've dealt with a lot of debilitating disorders up here in my time," the doctor continued, "Schizophrenics, self-injurious, more personality disorders than I'd care to count. But as the mutants became more clearly identified, we developed this wing specifically to deal with that population...but Wanda..."

Dr. Hageman paused and then held up a hand toward Yuriko for emphasis, "Not to say that being a mutant is the only criteria for admission. The fact is, mutants are still human and can still have the same psychological needs as anyone else. Unfortunately, _normal_ humans don't always see it that way..."

Yuriko's intrigue had now moved beyond her mission. She had admittedly had a preconceived bias in her mind as to what the Linnea group had been doing with mutants. She supposed her years with Stryker were to blame for that, too.

Dr. Hageman's attitude seemed to prove that bias wrong.

Unfortunately, Yuriko's theory would not be proven _entirely _inaccurate.

"When segregated areas for mutants were proposed, no one really argued against it," the doctor continued as they reached another guarded metal door, "That was before I came to work with the Linnea group. Back when Dr. Manners was CMO..."

"Dr. Manners?" Yuriko inquired as the large security doors buzzed open.

"Surely, you've read about her work," Dr. Hageman said with disbelief, "Her research on mutants and mental illness has been reproduced in several major publications..."

Yuriko shook her head as she followed the doctor into the next hall, "No, I'm sorry. I can't say I've ever heard of her."

Dr. Hageman's brow furrowed, "Well... that may be for the best. Here, let me show you around our clinic."

As the doctor gave Yuriko a quick tour of the 'mutant' wing, the Lady held her brewing questions in check, despite how rapidly they were increasing in number.

"As you can see," Dr. Hageman said as they walked passed the individual rooms, "We take pride in ensuring that each patient receives all proper medical and nutritional needs. We try to provide every comfort we can, though, considering some of the girls' violent natures, recreational activities are kept to a strict, daily regimen."

Yuriko glanced into each bedroom cautiously, maintaining her mask of indifference as she observed the patients. Not all of the young women had visible mutations, though most of their psychological needs were apparent. A few rooms had been torn apart, some girls simply hid themselves in dark corners, while others leered and made incoherent cat calls at the doctor and her guest.

As they entered the common area, about a dozen teenaged girls were scattered around the large room. In many ways, the scene was no different than a college dorm...except, of course, for the grating over the windows, the line of orderlies monitoring the area and the strange sterile scent that permeated most hospital settings.

The girls noticed Dr. Hageman and Yuriko with only slightly more enthusiasm than the entrance guards. A few with obvious physical mutations threw the pair spiteful stares, but then quickly returned to conversations with their peers.

"We knew she was a mutant," Dr. Hageman said as they moved into another hall, "Right from the start. We do with most now, even though their parents typically want to keep it a secret. But Wanda... Wanda's father... He made absolutely no qualms about his daughter's power..."

"You met him personally?" Yuriko asked, another new detail piquing her curiosity.

Dr. Hageman nodded, "Yes. Mr. Lensherr has become quite infamous over the past few years. But this was over twenty years ago, and he did seem genuinely concerned for his daughter's well-being. When he first sent us information about Wanda, he included detailed accounts of her mutant abilities... how destructive they could be. We all felt quite up to the challenge. Dr. Manners was ecstatic, to say the least... but Wanda..."

The doctor paused by the last door in the hall and touched it with an obvious sense of regret.

"But... Wanda..." she repeated, "...was... _more..._ than any of us expected..."

When Dr. Hageman opened the door, Yuriko felt all her new found sympathy for this woman and her organization melt away and be replaced by a fount of primal rage.

The room was square, almost perfectly square, except for small section of wall pressed back to allow for a wide observation window. The floor was made of heavy concrete and the only source of light was from two small windows on the far wall, barely wide enough to stick an adult sized hand through. The walls were the same cement gray as the floor, but had been padded at one time. The remains of fabric and soft foam hung in places around the room, which Yuriko identified as the source of a rotting odor that wafted into the hall.

In the center of the room was a single bed made of dark plastic. Whatever linens or padding that had provided cushioning were long gone, but ten heavy straps still lay across its top. Curiously, each restraint seemed to have suffered some kind of damage, though the cause was not apparent.

Even more interesting was a plastic chair, which had somehow been fused into one of the walls about two feet from the observation window. Neither the chair or the wall seemed to have any sign of distress, they were simply fused together. The opposing wall, however, had a large and impossible crack running directly up the middle, as if the two halves had been shifted against each other like a fault line.

Yuriko's fingers slowly rolled into tight fists. The cracking of her adamantium-lined knuckles was audible, a sound that echoed through the hideous room. Not since returning to consciousness at Alkalai Lake had she experienced such a vicious and furious hate.

"This..." the Lady Deathstrike managed after a few moments, "This... was... for her..."

Yuriko did not turn around, but her enhanced senses could hear Dr. Hageman's hair rustling as she nodded.

"Yes..." the doctor struggled through her dry throat, "One could say... this room... represents Dr. Manners' opinion on how our patients... our _mutant_ patients... should be treated..."

Yuriko's slight body shook visibly as Hageman spoke. She closed her eyes and focused on keeping her control. She was not Stryker's animal. She was not simply the Lady Deathstrike. She was Yuriko Oyama. She remembered the face of her father and she would not give into her anger.

"Dr. Manners..." Hageman continued calmly, "...had a way with the board of directors, you see. Twenty years ago, her brother had recently joined a rather wealthy law firm in Los Angeles and made several lucrative donations to the hospital. How _could_ they say no to Dr. Manner's treatment proposals after that? She convinced them that 'they didn't have a choice'... 'if there was another way, we would certainly try that first but...' Dr. Manners believed in extreme therapies. And Wanda was unlike any mutant any of us had ever seen..."

Yuriko struggled to regain her composure. Something in Hageman's words struck her as familiar. The sensation was not a strong as it had been on the airplane, but it was undeniable. Where had Yuriko heard Dr. Manners' name before?

"...Most mutants," Dr. Hageman continued, "...have one definable gift. Elementals, telepaths, animalities, telekinetics... The team here had actually developed several effective and non-invasive therapies to help them gain control of their gifts... but Wanda..."

Hageman reached past 'Dr. Zarin' and pulled the cell door shut. Yuriko finally turned her head and met the doctor's gaze.

"I have nothing against mutants... Dr. Zarin," she said firmly, "All I see when I look at my patients are young woman who need help. Of course... I'm sure any extreme treatments we wanted to try would still be quickly approved by the board of directors, as long as we were trying them on a mutant. We just had no way to define Wanda. Her gifts were beyond what any of us had seen before. It was as if she could emulate whatever power she wanted. Pull whatever fears you had out of your head and make them real... like... she would curse you..."

Hageman shook her head, "But that is ridiculous, of course. We have many young women here who _think _they have magical powers, but are simply suffering from delusions. They want to have some strange gift... they want to have a reason for being different. We thought integration with _normal _peers might help our girls but... Wanda..."

"What happened to Dr. Manners?" Yuriko suddenly asked.

"Moved onto better things?" Hageman replied resentfully, "No one ever said. With her brother's connections at Wolfram and Hart, she could have gone anywhere..."

"But, you know...don't you?" Yuriko insisted, "What happened to her? What happened to Wanda?"

Hageman shifted her eyes anxiously toward one of the security cameras and forced a broad grin in her face.

"Classified," she replied and then added, "That information is only available to Level A clearance staff... through our medical database..."

Yuriko narrowed her eyes, reading the woman's body language for signs of deception. The doctor knew they were being watched, and she knew how much she was allowed to show her 'guest'.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the Lady said, "I suppose my research will have to end here."

"Not necessarily," Hageman insisted, a strange pleading in her eyes, "There are other resources available. If you like... the university has a wonderful selection of alternate texts. If you have a piece of paper, I'll give you the librarian's number..."

With two quick motions, Yuriko opened her briefcase and handed Hageman a steno pad. The doctor's hands were shaking as she wrote a series of numbers (far too many to be a phone number) onto the paper and then handed back to 'Dr. Zarin'.

"Just have her search for the Linnea group's homepage..." Hageman said hurriedly, "Type my name into the field and all my publications should be listed..."

Yuriko put the steno pad back into her briefcase but never took her eyes off her strangely willing informant.

"I appreciate your help," the Lady said calmly, looking as demure as when she first walked into the lobby.

Dr. Hageman brushed a hand over her disheveled hair and nodded, "No problem... I... I hope you find what you're looking for..."

_And maybe more_, Yuriko thought as the doctor escorted her toward the exit.

* * *

Author's note P.S. – Lot's of Wanda stuff, I know, I'm going all over the place with this one. But without Wanda, how will all us Toad fans get more of the love-struck Brit we all, um... love! (Shout out to neglected Toad fans everywhere... cause I heard he's not in X3... damn it... oh well, anyway, IMHO, Frasier is gonna be a great Dr. Hank!) (Can't you just HEAR his voice?) 

P.P.S. – To LilSis – Quit your bitching and watch RD... NOW


End file.
